The Call of the Cumberlands

by Charles Neville Buck

Excerpt: ... the evil glint in Tamarack's blood-shot eyes. He took one slow step forward, and held out his arms. "Will ye come ter me?" he commanded, "or shall I come an' git ye?" The girl's fingers at that instant fell against something cooling and metallic. It was Samson's rifle. With a sudden cry of restored confidence and a dangerous up-leaping of light in her eyes, she seized and cocked it. CHAPTER XVI The girl stepped forward, and held the weapon finger on trigger, close to her cousin's chest. "Ye lies, Tam'rack," she said, in a very low and steady voice-a voice that could not be mistaken, a voice relentlessly resolute and purposeful. "Ye lies like ye always lies. Yore heart's black an' dirty. Ye're a murderer an' a coward. Samson's a-comin' back ter me.... I'm a-goin' ter be Samson's wife." The tensity of her earnestness might have told a subtler psychologist than Tamarack that she was endeavoring to convince herself. "He hain't never run away. He's hyar in this room right now." The mountaineer started, and cast an apprehensive glance about him. The girl laughed, with a deeply bitter note, then she went on: "Oh, you can't see him, Tam'rack. Ye mout hunt all night, but wharever I be, Samson's thar, too. I hain't nothin' but a part of Samson-an' I'm mighty nigh ter killin' ye this minute-he'd do hit, I reckon." "Come on now, Sally," urged the man, ingratiatingly. He was thoroughly cowed, seeking compromise. A fool woman with a gun: every one knew it was a dangerous combination, and, except for himself, no South had ever been a coward. He knew a certain glitter in their eyes. He knew it was apt to presage death, and this girl, trembling in her knees but holding that muzzle against his chest so unwaveringly, as steady as granite, had it in her pupils. Her voice held an inexorable monotony suggestive of tolling bells. She was not the Sally he had known before, but a new Sally, acting under a quiet sort of exaltation, capable of anything. He knew that, ...

88 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1913

About the author

Kentucky-native Charles Neville Buck (1879 - 1930) grew up in the late 1800s. He obtained a law degree from the University of Louisville but became an editorial cartoonist. and writer before publishing American romantic adventure novels. The Call of the Cumberlands (1913) is his best-known work.

Reviews

[Tweety · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know if I liked this or not. Parts of my loved the mountain theme but then I really hate feuding. And the I wasn't into the city parts. I'm not very interested in the uper class city dwellers version of feuding/assignation.

PG Some shooting, drinking and murdering.

[Arthur Pierce · Rating 4 out of 5]

A description of the plot might cause one to take it that CALL OF THE CUMBERLANDS is a hackneyed tale of a feud in the Kentucky hills. In fact, it IS a feud story, but not a hackneyed one. The author was a native of Kentucky and wrote from first-hand experience about the warring ways of rival clans and the fact that progress threatened to bring about an end to their century-old lifestyle. The hero, Samson South, is appealing, and this novel is consistently compelling, whether its setting be the Kentucky backwoods or New York City.

[Susan Molloy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful, Coherent Writing Style.

🖊 This is a swoon-worthy book, not so much as the plot, but for Charles Neville Buck’s writing style--that took my breath away! The dialect is written well; it is thoroughly understandable. Basically, the plot concerns a long-held family feud:

“What original grievance had sprung up between their descendants none of the present generation knew—perhaps it was a farm line or disputed title to a pig. The primary incident was lost in the limbo of the past; but for fifty years, with occasional intervals of truce, lives had been snuffed out in the fiercely burning hate of these men whose ancestors had been comrades.”

That is how feuds go sometimes – so long and the reason is lost to the ages.

I really enjoyed reading this novel. The 1916 silent movie is on my “to watch” list.

༒ Opening lines:

🔺 Close to the serried backbone of the Cumberland ridge through a sky of mountain clarity, the sun seemed hesitating before its descent to the horizon. The sugar-loaf cone that towered above a creek called Misery was pointed and edged with emerald tracery where the loftiest timber thrust up its crest plumes into the sun. On the hillsides it would be light for more than an hour yet, but below, where the waters tossed themselves along in a chorus of tiny cascades, the light was already thickening into a cathedral gloom. Down there the "furriner" would have seen only the rough course of the creek between moss-velveted and shaded bowlders of titanic proportions. The native would have recognized the country road in these tortuous twistings.

📕Published in 1913.

જ⁀📕From my private library; I own a first edition copy.
🎥 1916 silent movie version with Dustin Farnum, Winifred Kingston, et al.
༺ ༅ ✬ ༅ ༻ ༺ ༅ ✬ ༅ ༻





My ratings for this work:
Plot: ★★★★☆
Content: ★★★★★
Grammar: ★★★★★
Writing style: ★★★★★
Character(s): ★★★★☆
Ease of reading: ★★★★★
My recommendation: ★★★★☆
My total rating for this work: ★★★★★ (4.57)